16

Leon’s POV

I saw a photo of me and Ariane when we got married. I don’t think I should throw it away. I will keep it well as a souvenir.

A beautiful portrait of our wedding day, neatly stored in an album of happy smiles, white dresses, roses, dusk light, nostalgic impressions, and oil paintings. An unforgettable wedding photo, Ariane and I standing at the altar, hands holding each other tightly, a stretch of flower garden, dusk sunlight, twinkling light, warm images.

A portrait of Ariane and me’s romance is clearly displayed in an old gold-framed mirror, red roses, sincere smiles, unique perspectives, and realistic paintings. An eternal marriage in a picture, the two of us dancing under the blue sky, shady trees, sparkling wedding dresses, immeasurable happiness, details that are so alive.

A photo of memories together during a sacred ceremony, the sun setting on the western horizon, the silhouette of the two of you in happiness, the golden colors, the details that bring peace and beauty. But unfortunately, all of that is just a mirage. Ariane is the only one who feels happy even though it is only happiness. Ah, I feel like my life is so unlucky.

I went to my room and saw my room was neat but quiet. Usually, Ariane would sew and do other things in the room. I cursed myself because I had wasted a woman who had sincerely loved me.

A portrait of an empty harmonious room, a blanket neatly folded on an empty bed, the fragrant smell of Ariane's perfume floating in the air, a silence that pierces the heart, a modern realism painting. Release in the form of an oil painting, a quiet room seen from the half-open door, the soft shadow of the afternoon light entering the room, a touch of an atmosphere full of memories, the pain felt because of Ariane's departure.

In the heart of a tranquil afternoon, the scene unfolds—a quiet room illuminated by the soft shadows of sunlight filtering through a half-open door. The oil painting captures a poignant stillness, inviting the viewer into a space filled with both emptiness and nostalgia.

The bed stands as the focal point, its neatly folded blanket a testament to order amidst emotional chaos. Each fold speaks of care, perhaps of earlier moments shared, now embedded with an absence that lingers in the air.

Ariane's perfume wafts through the room, its scent delicate yet haunting, evoking memories that dance through the mind like the dust motes illuminated by the afternoon light. The fragrance serves as a bittersweet reminder of her presence, now replaced by the profound silence that envelops the space.

The walls, adorned with muted colors, seem to absorb the weight of remembrance, echoing laughter and whispers that once filled the room. The contrast between light and shadow creates an intimate atmosphere, as if the very air holds its breath, mourning the void left behind.

This modern realism painting beautifully encapsulates the essence of longing, the bittersweet nature of memories, and the quiet sorrow that accompanies departure. It invites all who gaze upon it to reflect on the delicate balance of love and loss, leaving a lingering sense of yearning that transcends the confines of the canvas.

*

I went to Bree to tell her about his other job. Because I felt like I still needed to see Ariane. I didn’t want to let her walk alone.

“What can I do, sir?” Bree asked.

“I want to talk to you about your other job,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm even though my heart was racing.

Bree looked at me intently, “What can I do, sir?” she asked.

I took a deep breath. “As a colleague and a friend, I feel this is important. I still need to see Ariane, and I don’t want to let her walk alone like this. She needs support, and I want to make sure she doesn’t feel alone.”

Bree nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation I was facing. “Okay, if that’s what you want. I can help you organize my time so I can spend more time with Ariane. She does need company, and I understand how hard this must be for you.”

I thanked Bree, feeling a little relieved. I knew that together, we could provide the support Ariane needed as she dealt with all of this. “We’ll do our best for her,” I said, determined not to let her struggle alone.

“We can eat together, Bree. I’m hungry too and haven’t eaten yet,” I said, half-smiling to dispel the silence that had hung over our conversation. Bringing Bree with me meant I had someone to lean on—not just for Ariane, but for me right now.

Bree nodded, her smile brightening again. “Sure, that sounds great. Where should we eat? I know a few good places around here,” she said, her enthusiasm lifting me a little.

“I don’t know, maybe that little restaurant on the corner? I used to eat there when I was feeling down,” I replied, remembering the days when life was simpler.

“Okay, let’s go there,” Bree replied. “And who knows, maybe food will give us a little lift in a situation like this.”

With that, we left, leaving the room empty and full of memories. Despite the loss that still lingered in my heart, Bree’s presence gave me a glimmer of hope—that maybe I wouldn’t have to fight alone. And that we could find a way to support Ariane through this difficult time together.

I paused in my tracks, a nagging thought gnawing at my heart. Should I start forgetting Ariane? It felt so heavy, so suffocating. I had just realized that I loved her, and now I had to face this painful reality—to leave her, to forget all the wonderful memories we shared.

But the more I thought about it, the clearer it became that forgetting Ariane completely was impossible. She wasn’t just a memory; she was a part of me, and inside her were our twins. How could I possibly ignore someone who meant everything to me—love, hope, and a new life that was about to come?